The Dark Knight
by MySignalFire
Summary: Why so serious? Because the Joker is rising to power, and he's got one ultimate opponent: The Batman. But what happens when the Batman is not around to cut the Joker's dirty business? ...also has a continuation of the Dark Knight film.
1. A Dark Night

**Gotham City**

**Arkham Asylum, August 17, 9:47 PM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Arkham Asylum's 'clients?' We're all really prisoners, trapped here by those who call themselves a 'society.'"

"Uh huh, that's great." The man who owned the first, stringy voice pulled out a silent handgun, unknown to the other.

"Do you know what the time is?"

"It's nine forty-seven," said the second voice. "Why?"

"Because it's time." _Bang_. The second voice ceased to sound. The first man kicked the body out of the way and stood there, in the place of the second man. The light from the bright spotlight-alert lit up the dark, cloudy sky. It could be seen that underneath a mass of nasty, messy hair was a ghastly Glasgow smile that looked infested and unhealed.

"Hey! Hey!" A voice called from the back. The man turned, his head leaning slightly to the left as he did, and looked at the other. "Please, let me out. Let me out!"

"Carmine Falcone," said the man. "Mmm… what's in it for me?"

"Please, I'll do anything, anything!"

"I think… I'll just keep you here. Who knows, I might need a guinea pig, like your friend over there, sometime soon!" For some reason, he found that to be highly comedic. "Ha, ha, ha –" and he burst out laughing.

Falcone fell to the ground, muttering to himself. "Scarecrow… Scarecrow…"

"Ah, the Scarecrow was responsible for this, was he?" asked the man. He began pacing in front of Falcone's "cell," muttering to himself. "Should come back… wants a deal…"

"Scarecrow… Scarecrow…"

The man kicked the dead body and sat it in front of Falcone's "cell." Falcone jumped back and wiped his face. The first man began looking around for some way to mark himself, when he saw a pack of playing cards fall out of the Falcone's pocket. "What's this?" The man pointed his gun at Falcone and took the pack of cards. "Hmm… King of Spades? No, you can't… understand people… with Spades… King of Clubs. I'm a clubber. I am the King of Clubs… Or…" out fell a Joker card. "They always made these ones look useless. They always said _I _was useless…"

The man pulled the Joker card out and stuck it on the bleeding wound of the dead man. "I'm here to prove them wrong."

"Who _are_ you?" asked Falcone.

"I am… the Joker."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham**

**Defense Attorney's Office, August 17, 10:03 PM**

"Harvey!" A dark-haired young woman ran to meet the new Defense Attorney.

"Ah, Rachel! Just who I wanted to see," said the handsome and charismatic young DA.

"Do I really make things that bad?" asked Rachel with a small laugh.

"Nah, actually just the opposite," said Harvey. "So what's going on?"

"Well, Harvey," said Rachel, pulling out a file. "It looks like we've gotten a closer look at the new head of the Falcone Crime Family…"

"You mean Salvator Maroni?"

"How did you—"

"Rachel, when I said I would bring the change for people, I meant it," said Harvey. "I hope people believed in me, and if they didn't –"

"Mr. Dent, they did. I did. I can _definitely_ say that I still do, and if people don't, well, what you're doing is going to _make them_ believe." Rachel smiled. It was a unique smile, too, pretty in a different way. Just like she was.

"Miss Rachel Dawes, I believe that's the nicest thing I've ever heard, being the new guy in this office."

Rachel blushed lightly. "Well, I have the privilege of working with you, Harvey."

By now, the two were at the steps outside of the law office. "Hey, Rachel, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm… depends on what it is, I guess," said Rachel with a laugh.

"Well… if it's not a question, I guess it would be easier, wouldn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Rachel looked at Harvey's hand, which was clenched around something.

Harvey pulled out a silver coin. "Heads you go out to dinner with me, tails, well… you can ultimately just… 'Answer the question.'"

"Harvey, I –"

The coin flipped heads. "I don't want to force you…"

"Dinner sounds nice, Harvey," said Rachel with a smile.

"Thank God you're my carpool," said Harvey, "or I'd feel like an ass making you drive alone."

Rachel shook her head, grinning. "Where to, Mr. Dent?"

"Well, Miss Dawes, I hear that Olive Garden is quite nice."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Wayne Penthouse, August 17, 10:06**

"Alfred, look at this." Young bachelor millionaire Bruce Wayne pointed at the television screen.

"Just one day this week I was looking forward to you having a break," said the butler, Alfred. "Considering your defeat of Ra's Al Ghul…"

"Yeah, and he broke half of Arkham Asylum open and let psychopathic bastards like Dr. Crane – excuse me, the _scarecrow_ – out."

"I'm sorry, Master Wayne. Although, I think you should sit this one out. Just one night isn't going to make those crime lords become something bigger than what they already are."

"Alfred, just one night is all they need to get somewhere."

"This is just a simple break-in, sir."

"True…" Bruce yawned and rubbed his eyes. "I'll just go out tonight. Roam around… at least scare them off."

"Yes, Master Wayne. But you'd best get some sleep right after that, sir."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Falcone's Old Manor, August 17, 10:28**

The abandoned house was always used as an escape area for the man who just started calling himself the Joker. Until he was captured by the people at Arkham Asylum.

There were all sorts of things that Falcone had left here when he moved to his new mansion, random, unneeded, strange looking… And there was the stuff the Joker brought in himself.

"Where are the damn keys?" _Ha, ha, ha, ha… it must be a joke. I'll bring out the punch line…_ BOOM. The door was knocked down. "Now…" He ripped off his orange jumpsuit. "Not a criminal anymore…" He scrunched his face when he saw his underwear… they were Tuesday underwear. "And today is… Wednesday." He ripped those off, too. Then burned them.

Falcone's old room was locked. "What is it with these people and locking their doors?" He shot the lock and the door flew open. It was dark and dirty in the room. He began raiding Falcone's old dresser… and found Wednesday underwear. "That's more like it." Then he began looking around… purple pants were stuffed in the crate that was to go to the furnace. He pulled those on. "Time to be…unexpected."

He looked around. All of Falcone's shirts were too big for him. _Ha, ha…heee oh ahhaa…he's too fat! Ha, ha, ha…_ But there was one. It had hexagons on it, and it was a light, pale blue. "Ugh…" But it was the only one that fit, and he decided it wasn't the best way to build his reputation if he went half-dressed to rob a store. He went up to the attic… and found an old, pedal-style sewing machine, and fabric of different colors. _Don't tell me I'll have to do this…_

He didn't. There was a crate with multi-colored vests and tuxedo coats inside that crate. Blue, orange, green, yellow… He pulled out the yellow tuxedo coat. And then put it back. _If blood flies on that thing, it won't look so…_ And then he pulled out the green vest, which seemed to do the trick for him.

There were matching ties hanging on hooks next to that, which was perfect for him. He pulled off the green one and fastened it around his neck, then buttoned up the vest. _Almost done…_

He started looking in the bathrooms of the manor until he finally reached the one he was looking for. _Ah, the missus' bathroom. Ha, ha, ha, ha… I'm gonna put on make-up! Ha, ha… what a joke…_

He began raiding messily. Out came a fat lipstick tube, a big black eyeliner crayon, and white cream. The white cream he took out in large doles and smeared all over his face, then put the black all over his eyes. _I'm a dark… dark clown. Ha, ha, clowns are so funny… ha, ha. I always wanted to be a clown…_ Then he opened up the fat lipstick tubes and colored his mouth. _But that isn't enough, people need to see my smile…_ So he covered the scars, too.

Then, to the kitchen. Guns were hidden under the sink, so he pulled out a few, and extra bullets, and then a sudden thought hit him: _knives. Knives are good. They take more time… more precious time… more bargaining. Ha, ha, ha…_ He stuffed some in his pant pockets, and some peelers. But it was hard to put all of them in his pant pockets. He'd need bigger pockets, like coat pockets.

There would be time to find a coat that night. As he left the house, he pulled out a few packs of playing cards from Falcone's drawer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Mark's Thrift Shop, August 17, 10:47**

The Joker got his new coat. It was a long, purple trench coat. And his fingers felt cold, too, so he grabbed a pair of purple gloves from the now dead storeowner, Mark Bryant.

As he walked outside, he saw a big spotlight in the sky… with the sign of the batman. _The batman, huh? Ha, ha, ha… he's just a joke. A poor joke. I wonder what would happen if –_

There were cries of a woman heard from the alley next to Mark's Thrift Shop. The Joker walked to the scene, his head tilted to the left side. When the thug was done with robbing the woman, the Joker started clapping. _Clap, clap, clap._ "Ha, ha, ha, ooh, ha, eeh, ha, ha, oh, oh, ahaaa. Bravo, my friend, bravo."

The thug pulled out a gun and aimed it at the Joker. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't just shoot you now."

"Because… well, because." The Joker looked next to him… There was the Gotham National Bank. "We're going to rob a bank tomorrow. The entire thing."

The thug looked at the Gotham National Bank. "Maroni's Bank?"

"I thought it was Falcone's bank," said the Joker quietly.

"Maroni's the new head. Didn't ya hear? Falcone's got himself locked up at Arkham."

"Same place."

"Well, I'm not doing it."

"Either you accept, or you die," said the Joker. The thug looked down – there was a gun pointed at his side.

"I'll shoot you first."

"Do I really look to you like a guy who cares?"

The thug realized he had no options, so, "All right. Okay. Fine."

"And if you don't show up tomorrow, you're dead."

"Okay," said the thug, quivering a bit. "I'll do it. I'll do it, fine."

The Joker pulled the thug to the inside of the Thrift Shop and pulled out a clown mask. "Now, here's the plan. You're gonna kill the guy called… 'Dopey.' You're gonna be 'Happy!' Ha, ha, ha, ooh, ha, ha. He's gonna stop the alarm from going out to the police. Less shares, you know."

The thug nodded.

"It's a lot of money. Ha, ha, ha…"

"How is that funny?"

Immediately the Joker got serious. "I'm the Joker. And you know what life is? A joke. One big, huge joke. And I'm gonna make it funny." He pulled out the peeler and stuck it in Happy's mouth. "You wanna how I got these scars?"

Happy shook his head.


	2. Robbery Gone Stranger

Gotham City

**MCU Building, August 17, 10:59 PM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
"Lieutenant Gordon," said the deep voice of Gotham's "superhero," or, as some preferred to call him, the night vigilante: The Batman.

The Batman and Lieutenant Gordon stood on the top of the MCU Building, next to the spotlight with the bat-symbol that Gordon often used to scare people off and to "summon" the Batman, but that didn't always work. The Batman came when he wanted to, subject to his own personal agenda.

"There was a break-in at the uh... Thrift Store down by –"

"Gotham National?" the Batman asked. "I know."

"The owner's dead. Seems to be one of the same escapees from Arkham Asylum let out by –"

"Ra's Al Ghul. For the diversion," finished the Batman. "What does this one look like?"

Gordon pulled out a picture from the security tapes at Mike's Thrift Shop. "He left a 'Joker' playing card with this victim... and the last."

"The last?" Batman stared at the picture. _What a freak_.

"Yeah. Left one with a body near Falcone's cell down at Arkham."

"Sounds like this guy wants to be known as the Joker."

Gordon nodded, taking the picture back. The Joker had a ghastly appearance. "I wonder how he got those scars."

The Batman shook his head. "I don't."

"It should be nothing. This Joker guy's probably just been –" Gordon looked up. The Batman was gone..."hired..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Olive Garden, August 17, 11:01 PM**

"Desserts?"

"No, thanks. Um... Rachel, do you...?"

"Oh, no thank you, but I _would_ like another glass," Rachel said, pointing at her drink.

The waitress nodded, smiled, and left.

"So, Rachel, how was tonight? Be brutally honest."

"Harvey... do you really have to ask?" asked Rachel. "Look, I'm having a great time right now, probably one of the best times since... Well, I'm having a great time, and I want you to know that I would have said yes if you just asked me."

"Really?" Rachel nodded. "And here I was getting my palms sweaty over how I thought you might've been getting bored because of me."

"Well, you're not, Harvey. You've always treated me like a real person. And, not to mention how many criminals you've already gotten set for trials, like the mafia... You know, Falcone's –"

"—Crime family, yeah," said Dent. "Rachel... I always wanted to ask you. I just – didn't know the right place or time."

"Harvey, that _was_ the right place and time."

"Okay," said Harvey, laughing. "And uh, not to pry, but since... what? Or who, should I be asking?"

"Since..." the waitress came by and gave Rachel her drink.

"Anything else?"

"No, we're good," said Rachel. The waitress left.

"Since?"

"Oh, right," Rachel said. "Since... I was with Bruce."

"Bruce? Who's – oh, wait, Bruce... as in Bruce Wayne?"

"Yeah," said Rachel quietly. "I still don't know where things lie with him. I mean, I've known him my whole life."

"Oh," Harvey said with a twinge of jealousy.

"Look, Harvey," Rachel said, sitting up a little straighter. "That's the past. For me, he's nothing less than my best friend, and for me, right now? He's nothing more, either. We know and trust each other with everything, and I guess, since... at the time, I didn't really have anyone else, I went for him. But I don't know. I don't feel like now is right for him, you know? He's got to go and let go of some stuff."

Harvey nodded.

"I think this is a good change for me, you know, seeing other people," said Rachel.

"You do?" asked Harvey.

"Yeah, I do. I definitely do."

"All right, then. That's just what –" _Buzz_. "Oh, wait one second. I have to take this."

"I know, Harvey."

"Hello?" Harvey's face twisted into confusion. "What? Slow down. Tomorrow? Wait, that can't... Okay, okay. Yeah, no problem, Garcia. Sure thing."

Harvey hung the phone up.

"What did Garcia say?"

"Ugh. The courtroom trial for Maroni's gonna be pushed to tomorrow, instead of Wednesday."

"Oh God. Okay," said Rachel, rubbing her eyes. "Okay, we'll meet up early at your office to discuss these briefs. Make sure we've got everything."

"Right," said Harvey. 'That's exactly right. The trial's at ten in the morning.."

"...so we should meet at six," said Rachel. "I'm on it."

"And here I was hoping I'd get a nice sleep-in after this long week."

"Harvey, in this office? You never get a nice sleep-in."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Gotham Meta Insurance Building (Next to Gotham First National Bank), August 18, 8:24 AM**

A glass window on the forty-third floor shattered. _BOOM_. Inside, a man in a clown mask, whom the Joker elected to call "Dopey," ejected a shell casing. _BANG._ A long cable was fired by the other thug in a clown mask, Happy, across to hit the lower roof of Gotham First National Bank. Dopey secured the cable line to an I-beam with a clamp and sent a big kit bag out.

The both of them slid across on the cable and landed right on the ceiling of Gotham First National.

"Right, we got this," said Dopey. "You ready?"

"'S your job," said Happy. "Get it done." Dopey shrugged and pulled out a pry bar.

"Time to break this baby open."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Central and 52****nd**** Street, August 18, 8:25 AM**

Another man stood on the corner of the street, holding a clown mask. An SUV pulled up, right next to him, and the man immediately stuck the mask on his face before the other guys in the SUV could see him. He got inside and sat silently in the company of two other men wearing clown masks.

One of them, whom the Joker named "Grumpy," began pep-talking them. "Three of a kind. Let's do this."

The other, "Chuckles," looked up from loading his automatic weapon. "That's it? Three guys?"

Grumpy thought for a second. "There's two on the roof. Every guy is an extra share. Five shares is plenty."

"_Six _shares. Don't forget the guy who planned the job," said Chuckles wisely.

"Yeah? He thinks he can sit it out and still take a slice, then I get why they call him the Joker."

The third man, who the Joker named "Bozo," pulled the car over in front of the Gotham First National Bank. Grumpy cocked his weapon.

"This is it," said Chuckles.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Lower Roof, August 18, 8:25 AM**

It was strangely quiet. _Remember, you're not supposed to know anything about me except that I hired you. Because if you do know something, Dopey will know I told you to kill him. One way or the other, the truth always spills out_, Happy remembered. _Yeah, okay, I'll be quiet about the Joker... except..._

"Why do they call him the Joker?" asked Happy.

"I hear he wears make-up."

Happy looked confused under his mask. "Make-up?"

Dopey began pulling out thick bundles of blue CAT 5 cables. _This is EASY_. "Yeah, to scare people. You know, like war paint."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham Ctiy**

**Gotham First National Bank, First Floor, August 18, 8:26 AM**

Grumpy, Chuckles, and Bozo shot their way into the bank with assault rifles. Grumpy began firing at the ceiling as Chuckles shot the Security Guard with a handgun. Bozo began rounding up the hostages, but they didn't manage to see one of the tellers pushing a button – a silent alarm – beneath her window.

_We're gonna have a lotta money,_ thought Grumpy. _This is nice._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Lower Roof, August 18, 8:26 AM**

Dopey was staring intently at his handheld. "Come on... come on... and..." _ping_ – the alarm hit his handheld. "Here comes the silent alarm." He pushed a button. "...and there it goes."

But the alarm didn't go to the police. "That's funny. It didn't dial out to 911 – it was trying to reach a private number..."

"Is it a problem?" Happy quietly pulled out a silenced handgun, aimed at Dopey.

"No, I'm done here." _Bang_.

"One down," said Happy, stuffing his gun into his pocket, picking up his bag, and forcing the roof access door. He sped down several flights of stairs to the basement, forcing open another door, right into the vault. "And here we go."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Maroni's Mansion, August 18, 8:27 AM**

A phone rang. "Maroni," answered its owner. "Yeah, what's going on, Pendleton? Trying to enjoy a nice hot tub here... What? A break-in? By who? You don't know? Then why are you calling me? Yeah? Well, guess what, if you live through this... Yeah, yeah, yeah. Call someone who cares."

_BOOM_. The door broke open.

"What you doing here?" Maroni asked. His wife left the hot tub. Police officers came in.

"You're comin' to court," said the chief officer, Lieutenant Gordon.

"Uh huh," said Maroni. "For what? And how'd you get in here?"

"Arrest warrant." Gordon waved the warrant like it was some sort of flag.

"Ugh."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Lobby, August 18, 8:27 AM**

Bozo began handing objects from a large garbage bag to each of the hostages. Grenades and other lethal explosives, they realized. Then Grumpy followed, pulling the pins.

Grumpy cleared his throat as he moved along: "Obviously, we don't want you doing anything with your hands other than holding on for dear life."

_BAM_. Chuckles was blown off his feet as glass shattered from inside the Bank Manager's office. Grumpy and Bozo dove for cover behind a teller's desk as the manager, Pendleton, climbed out over the mess with a gigantic shotgun. The Hostages scrambled, clinging onto their grenades. _BAM._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Vault, August 18, 8:28 AM**

Happy clamped a drill to the vault, and the bit spun, sliding into the metal door. Suddenly, a bolt of electricity ripped through the drill, throwing Happy to the floor.

"Ow!" The clown mask slid down a bit. Happy readjusted it and got up. "I didn't sign up for this..."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**  
Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Lobby, August 18, 8:28 AM**

Grumpy and Bozo cowered again under the teller's desk as the Bank Manager fired again. _BAM, BAM, BANG!_

"He's got three left?" Grumpy asked.

Bozo raised two fingers. Grumpy squeezed off a shot. _BAM_. Grumpy looked at Bozo, who nodded in return. _Yup_. Grumpy jumped up and –

_BAM_. Grumpy grunted as a buckshot clipped his shoulder, then fell. As Pendleton began fumbling for new shells, Bozo stood up and shot with the handgun.

Bozo picked up the shotgon as Grumpy checked his wound – _superficial_. He struggled to his feet. "Where'd you learn to count?!"

Bozo stared him down through his mask, pushing Grumpy to his next act: Grumpy headed for the stairs in the back as Bozo began loading fresh shells into the shotgon.

"You have any idea who you're stealing from? You and your friends are _dead_."

Bozo stared him down and said nothing.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Vault, August 18, 8:30 AM**

Happy was turning the tumblers with his hands covered with sneakers. Grumpy walked in.

'They wired this thing up with five-thousand volts. What kinda bank does that?"

"Mob banks. Guess the Joker's as crazy as they say."

Happy merely shrugged. _I know nothing..._ He gripped the wheel bolt and began to spin it.

"Where's the alarm guy?"

"Boss told me when the guy was done I should take him out. One less share, you know?"

"Funny. He told me something similar."

The wheel spun to a stop as the vault door clunked open. Happy stopped with realization and turned with his gun to shoot Grumpy when he started yelling. "No, NO –" _BAM._

Grumpy stepped over Happy's corpse into the vault... which was filled with an eight-foot mountain of cash. "This is nice."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, Lobby, August 18, 8:34 AM**

Bozo walked back into the lobby with two more duffels and sat them down on an enormous pile. Grumpy looked at it.

"If this guy was so smart he would've had us bring a bigger car."

Bozo shrugged and turned when he felt a sharp jab on his shoulder. It was Grumpy's pistol. Bozo looked at Grumpy as if to say, _What is this?_

"I'm betting the Joker told you to kill me as soon as we loaded this cash."

A stringy, very familiar voice responded from underneath Bozo's clown mask. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, I kill the _bus_ driver."

"Bus driver? What bus –"

Bozo stepped backwards as the back of yellow school bus smashed through the front of the bank, squishing Grumpy into the tellers window.

Bozo picked up Grumpy's weapon. Bozo shot at another clown who opened the rear door of the bus. As soon as he loaded the bags of cash into the bus, he made to step in when –

"Think you're smart huh? Well the guy who hired you's just do the same to you."

Bozo shook his head. _Nope_. He made his way again to the bus.

"Sure he will. Criminals in this town used to believe in things..." Bozo turned back to the Bank Manager and began to walk to him. "...Honor, respect. What do you believe, huh?" Bozo crouched over the Bank Manager. "WHAT DO YOU BEL—" Bozo slid a grenade into the man's mouth. A purple thread is knotted around the pin.

"I believe that whatever doesn't kill you..." Bozo pulled off his mask. The Bank Manager gasped. In the reflections of the glass, the hostages could see glimpses of a scarred mouth and clown makeup. _The Joker_. "...simply makes you _stranger_." The Bank Manager's eyes went wide as the Joker climbed into the bus, shutting the rear door, trapping the purple thread....

He drove the bus out, and the pin was pulled from the grenade. _Pfffffff_.... a toxic gas came out of the grenade. The Scarecrow's gas. Pendleton fell.


	3. A Twist of the Plot

**Gotham City**

**Abandoned Docks, Rusted Hulk, August 18, 9:24 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_CRASH._ "And here we go." The school bus crashed into a shack at the abandoned docks. The Joker pulled out each bag and emptied the money in them through a porthole into a rusted hulk and shook his head as if shuddering.

"Now…" he pulled out a map of Gotham City. _There's… Maroni's place. Maroni, Maroni, Maroni…Moroni. Ha ha ha ha, ooh haa hee ahaa. So… Maroni is the new head of Falcone's mafia, huh? Let's see what's gonna happen to him…_

"Ha, ha, ha, ahaaa…"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Defense Attorney's Office, August 18, 9:45 AM**

"Mr. Dent, hard at work, I see?"

"Mayor Garcia! Didn't expect to see you…" Dent looked a little confused. "So what's going on?"

"I'm sorry to keep bothering you with trial days and times. We've postponed the trial one more day. So instead of today, it's gonna have to be Friday."

Harvey groaned and kept a hand to his head. "Rachel and I've been up here since six just getting these briefs together."

"Yeah, well, then, you can sleep in tomorrow."

"Ugh. Okay, thanks," said Harvey. "I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee. Do you want any?"

"Nah, I'm good," said Garcia.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Wayne Penthouse, August 18, 10:49 AM**

"Master Wayne, rise and shine! Master Wayne!"

"Oh, go away, Alfred."

"Ha, ha, very funny. Time to wake. It's ten forty-nine, and you've got a meeting at eleven-thirty."

"Ugh. All right," Bruce said. "Do you know wh –"

A voice from the television caught his attention. "…break in at Gotham First National…"

"Alfred, put the volume up." Alfred nodded and turned it up high.

"Those trapped in Gotham First National Bank at the time were handed grenades and other bombs activated by pin. Here's a video from the scene," said Mike Engel on the screen.

The scene played out with three clowns in the lobby, one of them getting shot by the manager, another running out of the room and back in minutes later, only to get shot by the third.

"There were six of these robbers wearing clown masks, one driving a stolen school bus, and all except the killer in this video were shot by each other. The escapee has not yet been identified."

Bruce turned the volume down. "So now that Falcone's gone, they have people going in there to take money out…"

"It seems so, sir," said Alfred.

"Well, then, maybe they'll use the radiated bills that I – or, Batman, I guess… - gave them."

"The police?"

"Gordon, specifically."

"You would trust Gordon with this?"

"I trust Gordon. But I don't know about his unit… should be something we look into."

"Of course, Master Wayne. Now, off with you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**MCU Building, Lieutenant Gordon's Office, 11:12 AM**

"Lieutenant?" A Latino-American young woman walked into Gordon's office with a folder of papers. "Looks like we've got a picture of the killer clown."

Gordon looked up. "Huh?"

"We managed to get close enough without it being too fuzzy from the security cameras. Take a peek."

Gordon yanked the folder from the woman's hand and tore the front open. "Oh, God." _The Joker_… "And he robbed from the mob bank, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

_Can't've been hired for that… unless…_

"We're gonna have to call the Batman tonight."

**_[A/N: All right! First Author's note in the story. PLEASE REVIEW.]_**


	4. Intimidate Mode

**Gotham City**

**Parking Garage, August 18, 9:32 PM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two black SUV's pulled onto the top floor and out stepped a large man with a thick-accent – the Chechen, one of the crime lords of Gotham. One of his bodyguards pointed at the bat-signal that lit up the sky again. The Chechen shrugged. "This why we bring dogs." Another bodyguard opened the back door of one of the SUV's and three enormous rotweilers bounded out, growling.

The Chechen walked to the second SUV and, from the trunk, dragged out a skinny, wild-eyed, scared junkie by his hair. The junkie was babbling because of hallucination: "No! NO GET 'EM OFF ME! Off me!!!"

A battered white van sat opposite the SUV's. The Chechen dragged the Junkie to the van, whose rear door opened. Two armed thugs came out with barrels, and a third man hid in the darkness within the van.

"Look! Look what your drug do to my customers!" the Chechen yelled to the dark figure.

"Buyer beware…" said the voice. The figure emerged from the darkness – it was the Scarecrow, Dr. Johnathan Crane, wearing his mark. "I told your man my compound would take you places. I never said they'd be places you wanted to _go_."

The Chechen grimaced, then retorted – "My business is _repeat_ customers."

"If you don't like what I have to offer, you can buy from someone else," the Scarecrow said, walking closer. "Assuming the Batman left anyone else to buy from."

The Chechen frowned, angered. Suddenly the dogs began to bark. The silhouette of the Batman stood in the shadows behind the white van. _Oh, shit… unless…_ The Batman was slouched… couldn't this be an impersonator? There were plenty of copycat wannabes of the Batman running around Gotham at night. "Pity there's only _one_ of you!"

_BANG!_ A thump resounded from behind the white van. There was another Batman. _Or not_.

Then three more appeared. _BOOM!_ A hole tore open in the SUV next to the Chechen. The first batman walked into the light with a shotgun.

"That's not him," said the Scarecrow. _Batman doesn't use guns…_

"How you know?" the Chechen asked.

"We're old friends," the Scarecrow muttered.

Suddenly the crunching of cars sounded as the entire group of people turned to see a huge black shape slamming onto a row of parked cars. It was the Batmobile.

"That's more like it," said the Scarecrow.

The Chechen's men began shooting mercilessly at the Batmobile but to no avail – they just bounced off the bulletproof outside of the Batmobile…

…inside, it was empty. No one sat in the cockpit. One of the small screens read "Loiter… Loiter… Loiter…" finally, the shooting outside stopped. The men stared at the Batmobile for a couple of quiet moments when – _BOOM_ – the screen read "INTIMIDATE!" , the Batmobile blasts a car behind the men.

As one of the Batman posers walked into the light, aiming his shotgun – CLUNK – a black gauntlet grasped the barrel and bent it down. The poser looked up to see the real batman. The Batman punched the poser, pushing him out of the way of three dogs, who attacked the next poser. The Batman jumped atop the second impersonator and pulled off two of the dogs, but the third dog jumped on Batman. It locked its jaws around Batman's forearm, but then _SMASH_ – Batman flung the dog against the ground. He stood, breathing, over the railing as he waited for the Scarecrow to drive the white van in the levels below. The Batman jumped and fell ten stories…

_CRASH_. The Scarecrow's van stopped as Batman landed above.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Parking Garage, Back Railing, August 18, 10:28 PM**

The Chechen's men, the fake Batmen, and the Scarecrow are lined up, bound with zip-ties, against the railing. Somehow the Chechen escaped with his dogs. Batman walked to the Batmen and in a scolding voice, said, "Don't let me find you out here again."

He ripped off the Scarecrow's mask, threw it over the railing, and walked to the Batmobile.

"We're trying to help you!" yelled one of the Batmen as Batman mounted the Batmobile.

"I don't need help."

"Not my diagnosis," said the Scarecrow with a maniacal grin.

"What gives you the right? What's the difference between you and me?"

"I'm not wearing hockey pads." As the Batmobile roared off, the "Batman" looked down at his makeshift costume and sighed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Gotham First National Bank, August 18, 10:36 PM**

Through the barrage of press and passersby, Lieutenant Gordon and his Latino-American colleague, rookie Detective Anna Ramirez, walked into the bank. Ramirez handed him the blown-up picture again. "I'll hold on to the files, I've got some work to do…"

"Uh huh," said Gordon, looking at the grainy picture, with sweating clown make up plastered thick.

"He can't resist showing us his face," said Ramirez. "Ugh."

"Put this out, by morning we can put a big top over central holding and sell tickets…" Gordon muttered. "What's he hiding under that makeup?"

They stepped over Happy's dead body, which was being examined by Forensic Experts, and into the vault. Batman stepped from the shadows. Ramirez looked questioningly at Gordon, who nodded.

"Could you give us a minute, please, people?" Ramirez walked out, shooing others from the area. She left.

Batman nodded his head at Gordon as if to ask, _Who's behind it?_

Gordon handed Batman the blow-up of the Joker.

_What? Second night in a row_, thought the Batman. "Him again." _Ugh_. "Who are the others?"

"Another bunch of uh… small-timers." The Batman pulled out a device from his belt and moved to the bundles of scattered cash near Happy's body. _PING!_ Batman picked up a bundle and handed it to Gordon.

"Some of the marked bills I gave you?"

"My detectives have been making drug buys with them for weeks. This bank was just another drop for the mob. That makes… five banks. Which means we've found the bulk of their dirty cash." _Gotham First National Bank_, thought Batman. _This Joker couldn't've been hired by the mob, draws too much attention._

"Time to move in," said the Batman. Gordon waved the photo of the Joker.

"What about this Joker guy?" _He's starting to get on my nerve._

"One man or the entire mob? He can wait," said the Batman.

"We'll have to hit all banks simultaneously. SWAT Teams, backup." Gordon held up the bundle. "When the new DA gets wind of this, he'll want in."

"Do you trust him?"

"It'll be hard to keep him out." Gordon bundled the cash. "I hear he's as…" Gordon looked up. The Batman was gone. Again. "…stubborn as you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**  
**

_**[A/N: PLEASE DO REVIEW!!! I depend on them, highly. I don't know how my stories go unless I have reviews, and I need to put the Joker in more, because he is my favorite but the rule goes: the more reviews, the more Joker appearances. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ahaaaa….]**_


	5. Unacquainted Sympathies

**Gotham City**

**Subway Station, August 19, 12:03 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Past midnight, the Subway Station near 140, 34th Street was almost completely empty, except for four figures in the dark, behind the gate. As the train arrived –

_BOOM!_ The silver bar that rotated to move was shot out of the way as The Joker, and three of his thugs jumped through. The Subway door opened and –

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Subway Train, August 20, 12:04 AM**

- _BOOM!_ The Joker shot at the walls. People in the train dove to the floor as the doors closed.

"Well, hello there," said the Joker, looking around. He saw a scared old man cowering in his seat. The Joker pulled out his peeler-knife and grabbed the man's face. The man took one look at the Joker's scars and looked away. "Oh, I see. The scars scare you, don't they? Look at me. Look, LOOK AT ME." The man looked. "Do you wanna know how I got 'em?"

"Stop! Please, I'll do anything!" the old man cowered.

"Hmm… I dunno yet…" _Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hee, hee, ahaaa. This guy has got to go. Unless… Unless there's someone else who can bring out more fun and games! Ha, ha, ahaa. Ahaa ha. Ha._ The Joker looked around. There were other elderly people, scared stiff, some mothers protectively holding their children, a few couples… and then there was the young woman.

The young woman stood alone, holding a pole, trying not to attract any attention to herself by looking straight down at her mp3 player, but how could attention not be attracted? She was beautiful. Long, dark hair, skin that appeared to be naturally tan… brown eyes, and somewhat tall, the girl sent out an appeal to the Joker.

"Well, well, well… what have we here?" The Joker walked to her and tilted his head to the left. The young woman looked up.

She didn't look at the least bit terrified, which startled the Joker slightly. The Subway hissed to a stop and the doors opened, but no one outside, at the station, dared to enter what with the Joker's men pointing guns at the door. The Joker shot the lights in the Subway, which went pitch black immediately "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha…"

The young woman examined the Joker's face. A small mixture of pity and a twinge of jealousy crossed her face, but then her face blanked out again. "What's so funny?"

He turned back to the young woman in the dark. "Ha, ha. Life is. So tell me…" he grabbed her arm. She didn't flinch. "Beautiful…what's your name?"

The young woman looked away, out at the moving Subway window. The Joker brushed her hair out of her face and held her chin firmly.

"Tell me your name. NOW."

The young woman looked up at him and quietly responded: "Jocelyn."

"Jocelyn, huh?" The Joker smiled, and pulled out his peeler-knife. "You are… _very_ beautiful."

Jocelyn's eyes looked into his for a minute. He continued – "Jocelyn, Jocelyn, Jocelyn… Do _you_ wanna know how I got these scars?"

"Why does it matter?" The Batman emerged from the darkness, and one of the Joker's thugs jumped on him.

The Subway doors opened, and the Joker jumped out, dragging Jocelyn along, disappearing into the darkness outside.

The Batman made for the doors, but the thugs jumped on him. After beating them out of the way, the Batman pulled the emergency brake, forcing everyone to evacuate.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Abandoned Warehouse, 250, 52****nd**** Street, August 20, 12:29 AM**

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… ha ahaa."

Jocelyn stirred. _What's going on?_ She looked over and saw that she was lying down on the floor in an abandoned warehouse. Laughing came from somewhere behind her.

"Oh, you're awake," said the voice. She rolled over to see the Joker walking out from the darkness. He crouched down beside her and looked at her face. "You strike me as different."

"That would probably be because I _am_ different," she said. _Ow_. She held a hand to the backside of her head.

"The scars don't scare you?"

Jocelyn looked up. Very slowly, her hand moved up… and her fingers touched his scars. The Joker just watched her quietly.

"Your scars… they make you unique."

"HAH!" Jocelyn dropped her hand as he stood up and began pacing. She sat straight.

"Why did you do that, back there? At the Subway?"

"I do to people what they do to me."

"You mean, people come at you with knives?"

_Funny_. The Joker stood up and looked out. The sky had the bat symbol up. "Sometimes I've a half-mind to break that thing." Jocelyn looked up.

"The bat-light-thing? Even without it, the Batman would come after people… like you."

"Ha, ha, ha," the Joker retorted. After a while, he thought… out loud. "This is boring."

"What?"

He pulled out his peeler and held it as he grasped her face. "I'm going to have to finish this sometime, you know."

Jocelyn shivered under his grasp, trying to squeeze her way out.

"See… when I make acquaintances with people… They always wonder how I got my scars. I can't blame them. Curiosity is not uncommon. Curiosity is not unheard of. Not with things like this." The Joker pressed his peeler a bit to her cheek, as if threatening to peel off her skin. "I once had a brother, younger than me. He had some sort of… problem. Mommy didn't like that. She already knew how weak our family was, what with my drunken daddy running around. So one day, Mommy tells me to be very quiet about what she's gonna do… and next thing you know, little Tommy has drowned, at the bottom of the big well in the back. Of course, I'm just a little kid at the time… so I have to tell _someone_. I tell my daddy. My daddy gets very mad, and of course, he's so angry, he takes whatever he has in his hand, and grabs my face. It was a knife. And he asks me… _Why so serious? Why so serious?_ And I'm trying to leave… but I can't."

At this point, the Joker was looking out into the sky. When he looked back down, he saw pity in Jocelyn's eyes.

"_Why aren't you scared?_" He asked her.

"I don't know… you had a worse life than I did."

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… that was only the beginning."

Jocelyn remained silent.

"You know… the Batman will come again. For you. If you don't keep moving."

The Joker just gave her a queer look.

"Just saying…"

The Joker looked back outside.

"You know what _I_ want to know?"

"I don't care. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hee, hee, ahaa. I don't care! Ha, ha, ha!"

"Well… I want to know what you're going to do. What your plan is."

"Plan?" The Joker turned to her. "I don't have one."

"What do you mean?"

"I – can't – plan."

"So… what if you're killed? Because you don't have a plan?"

"I don't care."

"You don't care if you die?"

"You're only stating the obvious. Ha, ha," he said. _It's Friday. I should wear Friday underwear – _

"So… so if today the Batman came and killed you…"

"The Batman seems like one of those guys who can't kill people, you know? It's stupid."

"Well, if he did –"

"It would probably be because I threatened him with something. Ha, ha, ha… I should threaten him with something. See what he'd do…" he began muttering, pacing around Jocelyn. "Who he works with… Dent… unmask…"

"What're you –"

"Shhhhh, sh, sh, sh, sh, dear. I'm trying to _think_…"

"You're planning something."

"Like I said, I don't plan."

"But you are!"

"Shhh."

"Ugh," said Jocelyn.

"I'm not planning anything. If I were planning something, people would be able to discover it. I'm just thinking about what would happen if I… bothered the Batman. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… ahaa."

"Mmmm."

"Sorry, Jocelyn… but I'm going to have to ship you back home."

"Sorry?"

"You're pretty much a pain in the ass when it comes to me trying to think…"

"Oh, sorry," Jocelyn said plainly.

_Eh._ "Shhh, sh, sh, sh. We'll be meeting again, soon. Ha, ha, ahaa, ha, ha, ha!"

_Interesting guy…_ "But –"

Everything was dark in Jocelyn's mind.

The Joker had knocked Jocelyn Sofia Williams out cold.


	6. A Dead Survivor

**Gotham City**

**Mayor Garcia's Apartment, August 20, 12:37 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He rolled over in his sleep, and talked, too. "Mmmmbrrrghll....candy....No, I don't, Genevieve.... Mercy, give me mercy...." and went on snoring.

Sitting on his window's ledge was a tiny electrical device. "Beep... beep.... beep...."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**St. Clarisse Grotto, August 20, 12: 38 AM**

The Joker was done wiring the camera-bomb to Mayor Garcia's apartment window. Only, it wouldn't blow up the Mayor's apartment.... just the complex next to it.

The Joker had found a group of young men willing to join his "troupe." One of them was named Jonny Frost, who claimed he, too, was released from Arkham by Ra's Al Ghul. In order to prove himself, the Joker forced Jonny to kidnap a guard from Arkham and bring the guard to the St. Clarisse Grotto.

Which was no hard feat for Jonny Frost. As Jonny approached the Joker, who was wearing rain boots, and a yellow raincoat, from behind with the body bag, he spoke: "I've brought 'im, sir."

The Joker turned around. There lay a crumpled body bag with, of course, a drugged guard inside. The Joker turned around, skipping as he did, and opened the bag. "Get me some water."

Another one of the troupe members got a bucket of water. The Joker poured the entire thing on the guard's face. The guard sputtered and woke up, looking around, confused. The Joker immediately held his peeler to the guard's face.

"Wh – who are you?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ahaaa. They said _I_ had the mental problem, and _you_ can't remember me? What are you, some sort of amnesiac?"

"Wait a minute... you're that Joker guy, aren't you? The one who used to be called –"

"Shhh, sh, sh, sh, sh, no one needs to hear about that. What they do need to hear about though, is this," said the Joker, licking his lips as he did. He pressed the peeler onto the guard's skin. The guard looked at the Joker through very nervous, afraid eyes. "You see, when I was a... prisoner... at Arkham, I was stuck inside myself. You get what I'm saying? No?" The guard didn't move, his eyes fixated on the peeler. "I think, that anyone stuck there at Arkham needs to be released. And I'm gonna release you. Right _now_."

"Oh, thank you, thank –" and the guard began to scream. For, just at that moment, the Joker began peeling. Little by little.

Jonny's eyes widened, unafraid, while the guard screamed in terror.

"You see, young Mr. Frost, he should die soon of some sort of heart attack. It always happens. I seen these people do it before."

One cheek was now a shining, bloody mess. The muscles could be seen.

"I think I like that pink color." The Joker began cleaving at the other cheek. "Now, you boys can try to sleep through this..." as the guard continued screaming. "Shut up! I'm trying to finish a job here!"

Another cheek cleanly peeled. Bloody chunks of skin lay scattered on and around the guard's face.

_**[A/N: Sorry for the short chapter! I don't have too much time tonight ;) Thanks so much for the reviews, and the one that caught my eye was really helpful – even if it was anonymous: I really appreciate it! I understand that certain parts of chapters – or chapters themselves – appear to be like the scripted edition. Please keep in mind, I'd like to clear this up – this fanfiction occurs **__**during**__** and **__**after**__** – with a little bit of **__**pre**__** – the Dark Knight. Therefore, it is vital that I use certain scripted moments to explain certain parts. Apart from that, you can even see the rest of the work is all fanfiction. I'm really glad I can see what you think, and I promise to be more concise with the "fanfiction" part haha ;) Please do let me know what you think, after, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks so much, again, and I will work on what you've given me!]**_


	7. Patterns in the Dust

**Gotham City**

**Jim Gordon's Apartment, August 20, 1:13 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Ring_. _Ring_.

"Oh, God, Jim. What is it this time?" Lieutenant Gordon flicked the light on as his half-asleep wife, Barbara Gordon, sat up.

"Probably an emergency. It's on my work phone, anyway."

As he flipped it open, Barbara continued speaking. "They already have you all day. Don't tell me they need you now, too."

Gordon nodded at his wife for a moment as he talked into the phone. "Gordon. Yeah, Wuertz, it's one in the morning, you know that right? Uh huh. Wait, what?"

"_They need you down at St. Clarisse Grotto_," Wuertz's voice crackled through the phone.

"Why?"

"_They've gotta body. 'S nasty as hell. Oh, and there's a... yeah, there's a Joker Card with it._"

Gordon was silent for a moment. "All right. All right, okay. I'm... I'm coming."

"Jim!" Barbara sighed. "God, now I'm gonna have to wait for you to come home."

Gordon held up a finger. _One sec_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**St. Clarisse Grotto, August 20, 1:34 AM**

"Ah, Lieutenant Gordon," said a voice.

"Mr. Clayton," Gordon nodded at the man. It was a forensic photographer.

"Sorry for the quick call. I understand it's pretty late."

"Try one A.M. with an angry wife and screaming kids," muttered Gordon, "and you'll understand late."

"Okay, well, we found the body of a guard from Arkham Asylum. Right...." he led Gordon around a curve in the grotto. "Here."

Gordon's jaw dropped. The skin was cleaved right off in most places – the inner body parts were ripped around and tied in bows and knots, and the man's jaws were twisted. It looked like a newly uncovered, fleshy mummy. "Oh my God," said Gordon.

"I'm sure you can see why we called you down here..."

"This guy's a nut job! You say you found a Joker Card?"

"Yeah, we did, here it is," said Clayton, holding up a plastic bag. "However, we have reason to believe that he was acting on orders from the Falcone Crime Family. This particular guard, whom we have identified as Jack Montague, was assigned to watch Carmine Falcone."

"Hmm..." thought Gordon. "Where is the head of the forensic team?"

"Over there," said Clayton, pointing at a man talking to Detective Ramirez.

Gordon nodded a thanks at Clayton, then walked over to the man Clayton had pointed out. "You're the.... head of the forensics?"

The blonde man turned and smiled. "Yes, that would be me. You must be Lieutenant Gordon!"

Gordon nodded in response. "I thought Matthews was the head."

"'Was' being the keyword here, my friend," said the man with a laugh. "I'm Markus Jackson, current head of the forensics department with the Gotham Police Force, and Professor of Forensic Sciences at the University of Gotham. At your service, sir!"

Gordon looked away from the cheerful man to glance back at the badly deformed body. "So, uh... what happened to the guard back there?"

"This might be a little gruesome... Whoever killed him –"

"The Joker."

"The Joker, yeah. Well, he literally peeled off the skin with what we believe is a potato peeler. See, there are bloody skin chunks, because skin doesn't grate off evenly, like potatoes and carrots. Sad, right?"

"Of course," said Gordon, tremendous pity in his eyes.

"Then, of course, the victim got a heart attack. See, this Joker guy, he started with the cheeks. There's the most decomposition there, so they were open longer. About the time where he got to the belly, the guy got his heart attack and – _wham_ – he's a goner. Now, after the guys' dead, the Joker takes a knife and literally saws off the rest of the skin. Takes things like the intestines, ties 'em up. Makes a bloody mess, y'know? There's a rubber yellow raincoat over there, stained with blood. And a pair of rain boots. Those are what he wore."

Gordon bowed his head and observed a moment of silence. _Poor guy_.

"Now, we're not able to find anything else on this Joker guy, so we can't establish a pattern of work."

"I can tell you what I know," said Gordon. "And what patterns I see. Which aren't many, by the way. He broke into a –"

"Bank, yeah, I know," said Jackson.

"Yeah. And then, he broke into a Subway, broke all the lights, and abducted a bystander, only to leave her bound and gagged with lipstick and black stuff on her eyes in front of the MCU."

"Wow."

"Yeah, and some of my sources have stated that he used a knife at that second location. A peeler," said Gordon.

"Then, we see that knives are his thing."

"Yup."

_**[A/N: Booooooo yahhhh. Getting somewhere, now, aren't we? Have you noticed that the past coupla chapters have all been in one night? Yeah I know, crazy. I just had to show how the Joker stays up all night – therefore keeping others up all night – doing his crazy stuff. Haa. Kay, REVIEW!!!]**_


	8. Unknown Limits

**Gotham City**

**MCU Building, August 20, 9:31 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jocelyn woke with a start. She wasn't at a warehouse anymore...

No, she was at the MCU on a makeshift bed. She could hear voices...

"I'm sure you understand why we didn't take her to the hospital," said one voice. A man. By the sounds of things, he seemed to be far away.

"Understandable, Detective," said another man. "She was wired to a bomb... Lord knows what sorts of things this guy's got under his belt."

"I know. Is she awake?"

Jocelyn rubbed her head. The man next to her leaned over to check. She could read his badge. _Lieutenant Jim Gordon_. Gordon turned around. "Stephens, could you please get her some water?"

"'Course, Jim," said the man far away. After the door shut, Gordon looked back down at Jocelyn.

"Are you all right?"

"I don't know... yeah. Yeah, I think so. What happened?"

"You're sure the details won't disturb you?"

"Hardly."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Look, not that many things shake me. I got two dead parents thanks to old age and one dead brother thanks to deals with the mafia. I couldn't care l –"

The door opened. "Here, take some water," said Detective Stephens. Jocelyn drank, grateful. "So, you tell her yet?"

"I was just about to."

"All right, you do that." Stephens left the room.

"Okay," said Lieutenant Gordon, pulling up a chair next to her. "Well, what happened was this. We were doing a crime scene investigation at around one in the morning. We came back, and we found you, unconscious, bound and gagged, and then wired to a bomb. There was a Joker card on your person."

Jocelyn took in a sharp breath and muttered. "No... should've called... Batman knew..."

"Sorry?"

"Just thinking out loud. Then what happened?"

"We should've looked at the card first before we unwired you. Because, as soon as we pulled your wires off, the apartment complex next to Mayor Garcia's apartment complex... well, it detonated. No survivors, and that includes two newly wedded couples, four babies, and several children." Gordon bowed his head.

Jocelyn was silent.

"Then, they looked at the card. It said that if one was disconnected, the other would immediately blow up. I'm sure we could've called on the Batman for help."

"Yeah, I know."

"He would dare to kill a woman... that's very wrong," said Gordon.

"Killing babies and children is wrong, too," said Jocelyn. "I dunno. To me, it seems like in his opinion, all people are the same thing. Toys. I mean, I remember him saying something like 'life is funny' or 'life is a joke' or something."

"Huh," said Gordon. "He's stuck in a funny world with toys and no way out, with no one like him to keep him company."

"I don't know." Jocelyn tried to sit up but couldn't. Bruises were lined along her back, and she could feel them. "Did he beat me?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," said Gordon. "I think, more or less, that he had tried to hurt you and play with you, you know, because it's funny. To him, I mean."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Wayne Penthouse, August 20, 9:46 AM**

Alfred began putting Bruce Wayne's morning meal together. _That boy has a damn lot of work on his plate..._ He stretched. _I wonder_...

He flipped on the television set.

Gotham Cable News' Mike Engel was on the screen, reporting that one of three men who were part of a mob riot harassing voters outside of a polling station on Election day, Albert Rossi, would be attending a trial later on in order to help the new D.A. file a claim on Salvator Maroni.

Alfred turned the television off. _Oh dear_. He put the food on the tray and walked to Bruce's bed –

Which was empty.

With a disapproving look, Alfred turned and left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Railways, August 20, 10:13 AM**

Alfred stepped out of his Rolls Royce with a thermos and walked to a lopsided freight container sitting on the side.

He stepped in, falling slightly as he did. He walked into the beyond, where there were stairs that descended down to one flat, dark, concrete floor. Alfred walked to the middle and pushed his thumb on a little panel on the floor. A large rectangle of floor around him descended down into a room – a large room, with the Batmobile sitting in the back. In the middle of this impossibly large room, at the desk where several computer screens were displaying live feeds of Harvey Dent, sat Bruce Wayne.

Alfred approached Bruce from behind. "Be nice when Wayne Manor's rebuilt... and you can swap not sleeping in a penthouse for not sleeping in a mansion."

Alfred looked at Bruce. Bruce was crudely stitching up a wound.

"Whenever you stitch yourself up, you always make a bloody mess," said Alfred."

Bruce muttered... "It helps me learn from my mistakes..."

"You ought to be pretty knowledgeable by now, then," said Alfred, grabbing the needle and sewing for Bruce.

Wayne now had time to think. "My armor..." he began, thinking out loud. "I'm carrying too much weight – I _need_ to be faster."

Alfred nodded. "I'm sure Mr. Fox can oblige." _This is a damn thick wound._ "You get mauled by a tiger?"

"A dog," said Wayne.

"Huh?" _Like a Chihuahua?_

"It was a _big_ dog," said Wayne. He thought longer. "There were more copycats last night, Alfred. With guns." _I hate guns. They only have one purpose: to kill. I don't like to kill –_

"Perhaps you can hire them and take the weekends off," Alfred said on a lighter note.

Bruce laughed lightly as he responded: "That wasn't...exactly what I meant when I said I wanted to inspire people."

Alfred nodded. "I know. But things are improving. Take a look at the new District Attorney."

Wayne pointed up at the screens. "I am. Closely. I need to..." he muttered.... "know if he can be trusted."

Alfred looked closer at one of the screens. Harvey Dent was helping someone out of a cab – Rachel. "Are you interested in his character or his social circle?"

Bruce looked like he was in pain. _Oh, shut up_. "Who Rachel spends her time with is _her_ business." _She's waiting for me..._

"Well..." Alfred knew Bruce wanted to get off the subject. "I trust you're not following me on my day off."

Bruce laughed. "If you ever took one, I might."

Alfred was done stitching. Bruce lifted up his white shirt – as he turned to put it on, Alfred could see scars lined up on his back. "Know your limits, Master Wayne."

"Batman has no limits," said Bruce.

"Well, _you_ do, sir," said Alfred."

"Can't afford to know 'em," he muttered.

"And what happens the day you find out?"

"We all know how much you like to say 'I told you so.'"

"_That_ day, Master Wayne, even I won't want to." Alfred looked up. "Probably."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Gotham Courtroom – Superior Court, August 20, 10:30 AM**

Rachel sat down at her seat next to a few others. "He'll be here any minute now," she said to them, as if assuring them of Harvey Dent's presence. _He has to be_.

The clock was ticking. 10:31. _He should've been here a minute ago. People are still settling down, it's all right._ 10:32. _Judge has entered._ 10:33._ Still no sign..._

10:42. _Where IS he?_

"Excuse me, Miss Dawes?" asked the Judge.

"Yes, your honor?"

"Where is the D.A.?"

"I am sorry to report that I do not know."

On the other table, Maroni snorted. Rachel gave him a cold stare and flipped her head upwards. _I'll take this case_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Maroni's Mansion, August 20, 10:30 AM**

_Ha, ha, ha._

_And you thought I wouldn't be here? Look at you, you scumbags. Very wrong, very wrong indeed._

Four of the security guards now sat, dead, at the poker table, holding Joker cards, their faces scarred and covered with clown make-up.

Lipstick was used to write out a message on their arms, joined together: "I am your only option, if not now, then eventually. It always works that way. Be warned."

_Ha, ha, ha, ha. Did you see that? Now they're smiling. Now, we can all be happy! Ha, ha, hee, heeee, ahaa!!! And this is the brevity of life – the truth is, we're all just a joke. We're all just... you're all just toys. I'm the only realistic one – I'm the only one who can see without being caged. You all need to _learn_ what it's like to see the world from a free perspective. Maybe, then, you can become true. Life? There's no one in it but me who can understand the truth. I am the truth. I felt it. I know when to stop... ha, ha, ha, ha, and it looks like a stop is never going to come. Not with you toys. Not with fake people. No, we need real people, we need real humans – people like me! Ha, ha, ha..._


	9. The Trial Begins

**Gotham City**

**Maroni's Mansion – Vault, August 20, 10:37 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guards were rooms behind – a message to men like Maroni, who believed that money would buy them protection and power.

The Joker stepped into the vault with a little plastic box. He wired it to an oil drum he dragged in, then took a detonator out of his pocket.

He pulled out a note, laughing as he did, and stuck it on the little plastic bomb-box. Sticking the detonator in his pocket, he left the room.

It would all be blamed on the Chechen.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Gotham Courtroom – Superior Court, August 20, 10:43 AM**

The door burst open as Harvey Dent pushed his way to the front. Rachel, who was preparing to step up, sat flat on her seat.

"Sorry I'm late, folks," Dent said, taking his seat next to Rachel.

In order to keep from others hearing, Rachel muttered into his ear. "Where were you?"

_It's a law tactic. Make the other party nervous. You ought to know this..._ "Worried you'd have to step up?"

Rachel looked up. "I organized all of _these_ –" she pointed at the files " – not just yesterday morning for five hours but today I reviewed them for another five. Makes ten. I know these briefs backwards."

Dent pulled out a very old silver dollar – his priceless, yet worthless possession. "Well, then, fair's fair. Heads, I'll take it. Tails, he's _all_ yours."

Up went the coin –

- and down was Rachel's luck. The coin flipped heads.

Rachel looked at Dent with disbelief. "You're flipping coins to see who leads?"

_What?_ "It's my fathers lucky coin!" He grinned. "As I recall, it got me my first date with you."

Rachel shook her head and sighed. "I wouldn't leave something like that up to chance..."

"I don't," said Harvey sincerely. _No, I really don't._ "I make my own luck."

"I thought the DA just played golf with the mayor, things like that," came a drawling, blasé voice from the back.

Harvey swiveled around. It was Maroni.

"Tee-off's at one-thirty – more than enough time to put _you_ behind bars, Sally."

Maroni rolled his eyes. _Idiot_.

The bailiffs led a boxy man into the witness box. Albert Rossi. Arrested a week ago at a mob run at the election stand for DA.

Harvey rolled his eyes, sighed, and stood up with the rest of the assembly.

_**[A/N: REALLY NEED REVIEWS ON – please review HERE, and please actually submit reviews. I need to know how I'm writing, what I can improve on, and what I am doing well. Any review is good. Thanks!**__**]**_


	10. Break in at Arkham

_**[A/N: Yeah... I'm putting this on the top haha ;) I'm done with using scripted scenes for the next couple of chapters. But I really need – and do appreciate – reviews. No flames. I will burn flamers. I get reviews that aren't on , though, so if I could have more reviews **__**here**__** I'd greatly appreciate it. Right. And onwards... oh, and know this: I've compiled information to make this fanfiction as accurate as possible to the Nolan series. And now we'll start...]**_

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Arkham Asylum, August 20, 11:24 AM**

_Creak_. People were shaking the bars, trying to get out. On the far end, Falcone lay on the ground, muttering the name "Scarecrow" to himself.

A terrifying laugh from the man who opened the door scared the people in the cells so much that they stopped doing what they did. The Joker walked in. "Where are the doctors. You seen them?"

A few of them shook their heads. Others simply stared. The Joker saw a tall man curled up in a corner. He knocked the door down and walked to the tall man and grabbed his face, holding the knife people called a "potato peeler" (it was actually not, rather, it was a Paragon ATKO 10 that he had stolen from Falcone's old house) to it.

"You've got a chance to tell me where the lab coats are. Hm?" The man had no response. "No."

The man looked up at him. "Gone."

"No, no, no, no... they wouldn't've left investments and guinea pigs like _you_ here..."

The man shook his head feverishly.

"Are you nervous? Are you afraid of what I could do to you?"

The man nodded several times.

"You're a smart cookie," said the Joker. "You see these scars on my face?"

The man nodded.

"They're scary, I know. Do you wanna know how I got 'em?" The Joker pushed the blade slightly deeper on the man's face. "So I was going to get married. Beautiful, beautiful girl. But she couldn't pay for the wedding. She was too poor. So was I, but I wanted to marry the girl I loved, see? Look at me," he said. The man's eyes darted back to the Joker. "Hey. So one night, she tells me that if I can't pay for the wedding, she's calling it off. I don't want that to happen! Later on, she goes to sleep. I meet up with a few thugs, and I'm ready to rob a bank. I go over to the bank. Small bank. When suddenly... things get ugly. I should've figured this was the mafia's bank. See, Falcone's men come out with knives and guns, and anything else they can get their hands on. And only I don't get killed. No, they want to punish me more."

The Joker pushed the blade further into the man's cheek. Tears of fear came out of the man's eyes.

"They all get in a circle around me, and begin beating me. I'm just a poor man, I don't know how to defend myself. The head of their little mob pulls out a knife and does this –" the Joker began carving a smile in the man's face. The man began crying and screaming in pain. "To me. And I get home, with the money. And you know what? My girlfriend wakes up and screams! She took everything so... seriously. I asked her, a couple of times. 'Why so serious?' She responds by leaving me to rot."

At this point, the man's face was complete. But it wasn't a grotesque smile: it was a disturbing frown.

"That's the price you gotta pay for not helping. ANYONE ELSE?" The Joker's voice boomed to all the people around. "You don't answer, I'll start cutting you into pieces and –"

"They're over there," said a small voice. A small man pointed at a room beyond the holding cells.

The Joker nodded, then shot him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Grin and Bare It, August 20, 11:30**

No one was inside this disgusting place during the mornings. Night was when they came, in order to watch.

The girls here had no shame.

But it was vacant in the morning. So, a couple of the Joker's henchmen met here, hoping the Joker himself wouldn't know. Jonny Frost and his "friend," Monty, sat on the vacant chairs.

"We're gonna have to figure out something to do."


	11. Last Game In Town

**Gotham City**

**Mayor's Office, August 20, 11:00**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mayor Garcia sipped his coffee slowly.

By now, it was no longer a warm drink to soothe his throat. It was cold milk.

But Garcia had not noticed. He was too busy working as hard as he could. The last one wasn't up to speed on anything.

Two nights had been spent without sleep, as he wrote his notes on all that he had found.

Found on what?

He had promised Gothamites in his campaign that he would help clean the streets of Gotham. This was his chance, but how could he do anything without any record of proof?

To top it off, he felt damn guilty for not being able to stop the apartment complex next to his from detonating.

Somehow, someone got a video on Gotham Cable News that night. The video was not of the detonation, but of him snoring and sleeping, and the light from the bombing flashing over. The headline announcement read: "What is Our Mayor Really Doing for Gotham?"

Oh, Garcia was definitely ready to prove himself. His only problem was, he didn't have a damn idea as to how.

But that was when Dent came into the office. Eight AM, and Dent pushed his way in with four big files. "Looks like we've got dish on Falcone," he said.

Garcia struggled to believe it. Perhaps in collaboration with Dent he'd be able to pull things around.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**Gotham Courtroom – Superior Court, August 20, 11:01 AM**

The court's formalities were done with. It was time for the trial to help Dent get what he wanted down.

Maroni wasn't going anywhere, not after this.

Rachel was still flustered from Harvey's apparent indifference to her interest in leading the case, nonetheless, she complied when he asked her to hand him the important briefs.

The judge motioned for Dent to stand. "Your floor," Rachel said in a monotone voice. Dent nodded. He had chosen Rossi as his first witness.

"I think we've got a good chance with this guy."

"Rossi? Why, because of his testimony?"

"Yeah, that would be why."

"He could always turn on you."

Dent shrugged. He cleared his throat and got up. "Mr. Carmine Falcone has been locked in Arkham Asylum due to an extreme untreated form of psychosis. This is the fault of the notorious Dr. Jonathan Crane, whom we are still in search of. However, in the following weeks after Falcone's 'fall,' we have found a steady off-the-book rise in revenue stream of several businesses that have been found to be in sync with Falcone's crime family."

Rossi rolled his eyes and took a sip of water. _Yeah, yeah, keep talkin'._

"With Carmine Falcone in Arkham, someone must've stepped up to run the so-called family."

Rossi sighed and nodded. _This is what I was paid to do. Good thing I gave the Delicatessen to Lara. She don' have to deal with this shit herself_.

"Is this man in the courtroom today?" Rossi nodded again. "Could you identify him for us, please?" Dent turned and smiled victoriously at a poker-faced Maroni. _And the trap is shu–_

"You win, counselor. It was _me_."

_Aw, shit_.

Rachel was in a bittersweet mood. She was grinning because she was right. But she was mad because the briefs were all she knew on the case. She immediately pulled out the testimony. Maybe Dent could find some sort of loop to throw in. Harvey snatched the copy and walked to Rossi briskly. "I've got a sworn statement from you that _this_ man, Salvatore Maroni, is the new head of the Falcone Crime Family." _Damn. PLEASE just admit it. You won't have to worry about a lifetime in jail._

_Idiot. _Rossi began to laugh a little. "Maroni? He's the fall guy. I'm the brains of the organization!" The gallery began to laugh.

Dent was fuming. He turned to the judge. "Permission to treat the witness as hostile?"

Rossi flipped. _You fucking –_ "Hostile? I'll show you _hostile_!" He managed to smuggle a gun in through the detectors, probably only because it was a Ceramic 28. He pointed it at Dent's face and pulled the trigger –

Luckily for Dent, it misfired with a _pop_. Dent stepped forward and grabbed the gun and decked Rossi with a right cross. Albert Rossi's nose bled as he fell to the floor and the Bailiffs wrestled him from the box.

Harvey popped the cartridge out and handed it to Maroni. "Ceramic 28 caliber. Made in China." All that from a cartridge. "If you want to kill a public servant, Mr. Maroni, I recommend you buy American."

Dent turned to see Rossi almost out of the room. "But, your honor, I'm not done –" _with him_…

Maroni grinned. Rachel slumped in her chair. _Dear God_.

The judge called for a break just as Dent cracked his neck. "I'm dealing with Maroni direct next time…" he muttered. "Too bad that won't be for a while."

Rachel gave Maroni a dirty look as she walked to Dent. "Do you get what this means?"

"No." Dent saw that Maroni's lawyer was trying to catch an ear of what they were saying. "We'll talk about it later."

Maroni turned to his lawyer and muttered to him. "We gotta set those guys off. L.S.I. we'll keep, they're off in China, and the Chinese can't extradite."

The lawyer nodded. "Oh, definitely." Maroni grinned. _Wait till they sign with Wayne Enterprises and we make ourselves more powerful._

_**[A/N:**__I'd like to take this moment to thank Eric the Looney for the appropriate review response. Reviews like this help me to see what I need to add in. On another note, I've been receiving PM's asking why I'm not using the script. I am, I just didn't for that chapter. Someone complained that it looked too "scripted." So I'm stretching it out a bit more. One more thing: I haven't yet shown Mister J's hold on his empire yet, because he's growing on himself. You'll see what I mean. He still is growing to power, isn't he? Right, that's all. Thanks, and do review! :) Yours, The Joker's Woman__**]**_


	12. Kill the Batman

**Gotham City**

**The Grin And Bare It, August 20, 11:31 AM**

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonny Frost looked up quietly. Monty was a fat idiot, he knew that. "Something to do?"

"Yeah." Monty drank freely.

_How'd you get us in this place by morning?_

As if reading Jonny's mind, Monty pointed at the dead bar-owner's body behind the counter.

_Oh._ Monty finished his drink. "Right. Well, we got this Joker guy goin' around and killing random people randomly. And Maroni ain't so happy."

"Uh huh," said Jonny. "How'd you know it's random?"

"I don't. But _they_ think so," Monty retorted, jerking his head at the door. "And there's only two options for this Joker guy. Either he's got to, I dunno, _own_ Gotham somehow, and show it, you know, assert it, or he's gotta give in. To the mob."

Jonny nodded, fidgeting with the pocket on his leather jacket. It was bugged, so the Joker could hear the conversation as it happened. And the Joker responded to the headphone that was situated inside Jonny's ear.

"_Find out about option number uno, my friend,"_ he said.

_I know_, Jonny thought. But he was perplexed. He had no idea the Joker turned his chip on. "Own Gotham?"

"Yeah. Or at least, assert his power. He's being so random… you know, no one's gonna believe him."

"Oh." He cracked his neck. "So what would he have to do?"

"Hit the mob where it hurts."

The Joker began cackling madly on the other end. _"But that's just it! That's what I'm doing! HA HA HA HA –"_

The line went dead. Jonny gulped. _Shit_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Arkham Asylum, August 20, 11:37 AM**

Joker threw the tiny microphone on the ground and smashed it to pieces. Ground it. Crushed it. Eventually it was like a fine powder, with a few chunks of plastic and rubber here and there, and a couple of wire fragments.

"Show you…" he muttered as he straightened up. _Time to take my sandbox._ He stood by the door, waiting for the opportune moment.

"Welcome back, Dr. Crane. So glad to see you," said one voice. The voice of an old man.

"Thanks, Dr. Craig. I'm glad to be back. That little scuffle with the police… too bad they can't see a brilliant mind at work."

"I know, I know," said the first voice. Dr. Craig. "So how did you manage to get out?"

"You forget that I have a little uh… Alliance, with Maroni's fine… establishment. Their lawyers helped me to get out. I mean, I didn't actually do anything wrong, now, did I?"

"No. All in the name of science."

"And the betterment of mankind."

_Now!_ The Joker pushed the door open. The room was not well lit. But nonetheless, he cackled like a madman. "Jonathan Crane…. Johnny, Johnny, Scarecrow freak."

"How'd you know about the Scarecrow?" _Stupid question_, thought Crane, wishing he could take it back. _It's that clown-freak._

The Joker stretched and popped his back. "Ahh." He looked at Crane's bright blue eyes. Electrifying. "Don't we all?"

"Sorry?"

_He has ties with Maroni's crime family. With Falcone's crime family. They rule Gotham… which means I'm gonna have to rule _them_._ _Which means… I'm gonna have to give it all to Crane here…_

_Ha. Ha. Ha._

Knife.

The Joker held the knife to Crane's face in the dark, as he licked his lips. As he usually licked his lips. "Hello, Dr. Crane."

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" Yelled Dr. Craig.

"You're just a crochety old man. Who says I should listen to you?" _Want me to get off your lawn, now?_

_Click._ "You don't want to do this, young man. Save yourself, you have a lifetime ahead of you!"

The gun was pointed at the Joker's head. He sighed and rolled his eyes. _Wrong_. "How _boring_." _Plan number one: we kill the old man and shut his yap. Plan number two… we use him to get money through… this guy here from the Mafia, and then hit them where it hurts_. "I think I'll go with two."

"What?"

The Joker kicked Craig in the abdomen, then knocked the gun out of the way. In doing so, the cartridge flew out. Craig's glasses fell off as he clutched his stomach, groaning.

"Your stringy voice," said Crane. "It's familiar."

"Oh, it _would_ be." _Not that I know, or care, how._ "How about you tell me about your, ah, affiliations, hmm?"

Crane looked behind him to the Joker. Blue eyes met brown as he pushed the Joker's arm down a little bit to breathe. "How about you do something for _me_, first?"

"Why should I let you live at all?" The Joker pressed the knife further into Crane's throat. A little bit of blood trickled down. Crane began laughing.

"You can't get the information that I can give you from anyone else, now, can you? Like, how they'll be meeting up at that useless hotel's kitchen. There's a reason why no one will believe in your 'power.' Your acts are so random. _Don't_ think I don't know about what you've been up to… Joker."

"How would I care?"

"More like, how would _I_ know?" Crane twisted again. Blood continued to trickle down. "You place a bomb at Maroni's place, and yeah, he knows who it is. You're ready to blame it on the Chechen? How do you think Maroni's gonna believe _that_?"

_Good point._ "There's a reason why I kill with a knife, Doctor. But you'd never know that." Gulp of air. Licking lips. "You know, I only put the bomb in the place where the Chechen visits to get his, uh, _shipment_. And then I clown-ified Maroni's other… associates where they were, where I'd be. And me telling you isn't gonna change my old plans, you know."

"Of course not," said Crane. "Or will they?"

"You always knew," said the Joker. "Besides, I couldn't care less. Things have changed."

"Which brings me back to the point that you're gonna need me. You pushed me in the limelight now, you know? There's no going back with that."

The Joker released a little bit on the pressure.

"What happened to steady blood flow?"

The Joker let go. "How about we make ourselves a deal, hmm?"

"Maybe. Depends on what you have to offer."

"I've got all of what you want. And need."

"How much?"

"Your life." Crane shrugged. "And near a hundred million."

Crane looked him in the eye. "I still want what I want."

"Which is?"

"A test."

"What kind of –" Crane pulled out a gun and shot. But instead of bullets came a spray, a vapor. It smelled of oranges and spice. Crane pulled a burlap sack off the desk next to him and stuck it on his head.

"The darkest creatures of the night will come and hurt you." _I need to come up with a new phrase for this thing._

The Joker stared at him quizzically. "What's your problem, you freak?"

Crane… that is, the Scarecrow, looked at him, confused. "It didn't work?"

"WHAT?" The Joker picked up the chair for the desk and whacked Crane on the side and beat his legs as he fell to the floor.

"OW – I'm weak, I'm weak! STOP! ST –"

"Look, word of advice, stop wasting my _time_." The Joker pushed Crane to the floor as he turned to leave. "Oh, and one more thing," he said, looking back at the Scarecrow. "If you cross me, not only you, but everything you own and have worked for… it'll all be gone. Forever."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**The Thomasina Arms, Kitchen, August 20, 12:02 AM**

The Chechen met Gambol for the first time in the lobby of the once-swanky Thomasina Arms hotel. Now it was pure garbage. Pure shit. But it was good for their meet. No one went to the Tommy, ever. It was a dangerous place, with dangerous people, like Maroni, Gambol, and the Chechen itself.

However damp and dirty and poor and crummy the place was, it was still secure. There were even metal detectors. Too bad the old guy who last owned the place didn't think to use them. They could have saved him.

"You are Gambol?"

"Yeah."

Chechen pulled out his card. "We go kitchen together."

"Shut up, idiot."

Chechen scowled as they trudged upstairs.

"You don't want nobody to know where we're at, even at the Tommy, understand, Chechen?"

"Yes, yes, very well. Shh."

"That's more like it."

Gambol pushed the doors open. Two burly security men stood by the metal detectors as they walked in. Gambol gave up his arms and took his seat across Maroni. The alarm beeped as the Chechen walked through. He raised his arms and opened his coat. "My belt," he said, shrugging.

He took a seat with all of the rest of Gotham's most notorious gangsters. Together, they were a mob. No one could stop them. No one –

Two burly Chinese men carried a television set into the room from a back door. "The hell is this…?" asked Gambol. _What the f –_

Maroni looked at Gambol for a second, studying his face, then looked back at the screen as it flickered to life.

Lau sat in the screen with a plastered peaceful smile. The room erupted in shouts of annoyance.

"Gentlemen, please. As you're all aware, one of our deposits was stolen. A relatively small amount: 68 million." Lau cleared his throat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**The Thomasina Arms, August 20, 12:04 AM**

_Up the stairs, up the stairs, up the stairs we go._

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**The Thomasina Arms, Kitchen, August 20, 12:04 AM**

"Who's stupid enough to steal from us?" asked the Chechen, clearly annoyed. _Could've used that money._

The two security guards standing by the metal detectors fell to the ground, dead, as a silenced handgun was placed back in a pocket. _Good thing everyone's watching the Asian on T.V._

"Two-bit whack-job, wears a cheap purple suit and make-up. He ain't the problem, he's a nobody. The problem is our money being tracked by the cops –" Maroni looked to Lau for continuation.

There were murmurs of surprise. _You're in it with this guy?_ That's all Gambol could think of.

_Two-bit whack-job?_ A growl from behind the metal detectors. _Why you little –_

"Thanks to Mr. Maroni's well-placed sources, we know that police have indeed identified our banks using marked bills, and are planning to seize your funds… today."

Everyone began shouting all at once. Quiet laughs from behind the metal detectors. Of course, no one could hear them in all the yelling.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Various Downtown Banks, August 20, 12:07 AM**

Lieutenant Gordon was sitting in a SWAT van outside one back. "Ready, boys?"

Detective Stephens was standing outside another, holding up his handgun, tightening his bulletproof vest as he walked in.

Detective Ramirez was outside a third, walking inside as she signaled to Gordon on her walkie-talkie to get inside.

SWAT teams were outside a fourth, checking weapons and preparing to move.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**The Thomasina Arms, Kitchen, August 20, 12:07 AM**

The men were still yelling. Chechen leaned into the screen and yelled at Lau. "You promised safe, clean money launder –"

_Shut up, Russian._ "With the investigation ongoing," Lau cut the Chechen off, "none of you can risk hanging on to your own proceeds. And since the enthusiastic new D.A. has put all my competitors out of business, I'm your _only option_."

Maroni looked at him squarely. _This wasn't part of the plan._ "So what're you proposing?"

"Moving all deposits to one secure location – not a bank."

"Where, then?" said Gambol. _You pissy little –_

"No one can know, but me." There were eruptions of anger in the kitchen. "If the police were to gain leverage over one of you, everyone's money would be at stake."

More laughs from behind the metal detector, but still, no one can hear them over everyone's fuming anger.

"What stop them getting to you?"

"I go to Hong Kong, far from Dent's jurisdiction. And the Chinese will not extradite one of their own."

"How soon can you move the money?" asked Maroni.

"I already have."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
**Gotham City**

**Various Banks, August 20, 12:09 AM**

Gordon is furious. The banks are empty.

Except, of course, for the marked bills.

Gordon kicks the wads of radiated cash.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Gotham City**

**The Thomasina Arms, Kitchen, August 20, 12:10 AM**

"For obvious reasons I couldn't wait for your permission… Rest assured, you money is safe."

_And THERE'S the punchline, ladies and gentlemen!_ First it was quiet, as it was before. Then… "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, oh, HEE, HEE, ah HAA ha, OOH, hee, haa! And I thought _my_ jokes were bad." The Joker stood, exposing his presence, in front of the mob, and the television.

"Gimme one reason I shouldn't have my boy here pull your head off."

Although he was intending on pulling out a knife, the Joker received sudden inspiration upon finding a pencil in his pocket as he saw Gambol nodding at his bodyguard. Lau watched curiously, along with everyone else in the room. "How about a magic trick?"

He pulled the pencil out and slammed it into the table, leaving it upright. "I'm gonna make this pencil… _disappear_." Gambol nodded fevereshly now. His bodyguard moved at the Joker – who sidestepped, gripped his head, SLAMMED it, face down onto the table.

The bodyguard went limp and slid off the table. The pencil was GONE. _Magic_. "Ta da! There, it's… it's gone." The Joker sat and straightened up his suit as he looked straight at Gambol. _Oh, you're an annoying little pooper. Wait till I squeeze you silly._ "Oh, and the suit, it wasn't cheap. You oughta know, _you_ bought it."

Gambol stood up, furious.

_You little brat, you've got too much temper. Why so serious? I should make you HAPPY…_

"Sit, I wanna hear… proposition." The Chechen nodded at Gambol.

The Joker looked straight at Gambol and pointed at Chechen. _Listen to the big guy, little one._

"Let's wind the clock back a year… these cops and lawyers wouldn't _dare_ cross _any_ of you." _Obviously. Stupid meddling clown in the bat suit. Ha, ha, ha. He only makes it easier._ "I-I mean, what happened? D'your balls drop off? See, a guy like me –"

"A _freak_," Gambol cut in, earning laughs. The Joker tried to ignore, but how would THAT happen?

"A guy like me – look, listen." The Joker clicked his tongue. "I know why you're holding your little –_ cough_ – group therapy sessions in broad daylight. I know why… you're afraid to go out at night. The Batman." _Ding, ding, ding, we haaaave a winner!_ "See, Batman's shown Gotham your true colors."

The Joker was really on a roll now, going faster, and faster, and faster, and the funny thing was, everyone's eyes were on him. Him alone. _Why didn't this happen before?_

"Dent? He's just the beginning. And – and as for the television's so called plan?" He pointed at Lau. "Batman _has_ no jurisdiction. He's find him, and make him _squeal_." The Joker mimed squeezing Lau's neck all the way around. "I know the squealers when I see them, and –" he pointed at Lau. _You're DEFINITELY a squealer._ Lau turned off the television from his side. _Bastard_.

"What you propose?" the Chechen looked closely at the Joker. Another Crime Boss nodded. "Yeah."

"It's simple. We, uh, kill the Batman."

Everyone burst out laughing again. _What kind of IDIOT is this freak?_ Gambol thought, holding his stomach.

"If it's so simple, why haven't _you_ done it already?" asked Maroni, looking at him like he was an adamant child.

_It's like my mother used to tell me…_ "If you're good at something, _never_ do it for free."

The Chechen considered it. "How much you want?"

"Uh… half." Laughter again erupted from the room. Jeers and taunts, too. The Joker shrugged as he adjusted himself in his seat. "You don't deal with this now, soon, uh – Gambol? – won't even be able to get a _nickel_ for his grandma –"

Gambol stood up, infuriated. "_Enough_ from the clown." The Joker jumped up and casually opened his coat, revealing explosives wired to his chest. _Dead security. Sorry. My bad._ Gambol stopped walking towards the Joker.

"Let's not _blow_ this out of proportion."

Gambol was steaming from the ears at that point. "You think you can steal from us and just walk away?"

"Yeah." _I've stolen before. Nothing big. Ha, ha, ha. You're a joke, bitch._

"I'm putting the word out – five hundred _grand_ for this clown, dead. A million alive, so I can teach him some _manners_ first."

The Joker shrugged. _Nice_. _Looks like we have a deal_. He turned to the assembled, shocked faces of the mob.

"Let me know when you're ready to take things a little… more… seriously." His finger still wrapped around a wire for one of the explosives, he pulled out a single Joker card from his pocket. "Here's… my… card." He put it on the table and walked out, facing them, through the other kitchen doors.

The mob still had work to do, allowing for a clean departure for the Joker.

_Happy, Monty? I hit 'em where it hurts. Now all I have left is for them to lose out on everything._

_**[A/N: Sorry for the lack of update. I've been sooo busy. Now, at least I have some time! Same with my other fanfics, so I promise you, I will update with all of them more often. Please, please, please review. I really need the reviews. They help more than you **__**know**__**. I need them here, just so I can see how many active readers I have, what I need to work on, and what you enjoy.]**_


	13. Rewrite, Gotham City

Dear Readers,

I was reading through this entire fanfiction and noticing how terrible it is, in that it lacks so much! A bit too much. I'm rewriting it as _Gotham City_, so if you don't mind adding that, this will be archived and we'll all go on our merry way ;)

I'd like to shout out to reader Eric the Looney and thank him for his help, and I hope he'll read _Gotham City_!

Thanks,

THE JOKER'S WOMAN


End file.
